


How To Help A Hero

by whoseeswhatsyetunseen



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blow Job, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Felicity takes charge, Friends With Benefits, Humor, Lyla mentioned, Oral Sex, Sara mentioned, Smut, Stress Relief, Tommy mentioned, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-17 06:52:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3519539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whoseeswhatsyetunseen/pseuds/whoseeswhatsyetunseen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aka "The Blow Job" that I promised/teased over on tumblr a couple weeks ago!<br/>Felicity recalls how she helped a former boyfriend relieve some pent up frustrations and wonders if that's just what Oliver needs...<br/>(The real good stuff starts in ch3/4, fyi!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Tough Night

**Author's Note:**

> Set between seasons 2 & 3

The door banged open so very loud and so suddenly, Felicity cursed and leapt out of her chair. She hadn't even heard the beep of the security code (although, apparently, she often missed the small beeps, much to everyone's usual amusement...)

She clutched at her chest, leaning back into her desk and watching wide-eyed as the boys returned. Oliver had slammed the door open further and only Diggle reaching out over the green shoulder kept the heavy metal from ricocheting back into Oliver's face.

She faintly heard Roy snicker, but her focus remained on the Arrow stomping--yes, literally stomp stomp stomping--down each step. She sucked in a breath as she tried to looked into his face.

His eyes were slits of black behind the mask and his entire face was shadowed by the still raised deep hood. He was about thirty feet away when he flicked his gaze up to his IT expert.

His march faltered almost imperceptibly before he turned to carefully put down his bow. Felicity could see his body, tense and taut, see it clearly even through the leathers; his movements exact and delicate as he removed his gear and weapons with icy precision.

She turned her head to Diggle and Roy as they approached in a far less agitated and more usual manner. She raised her eyebrows and mouthed, "What happened?"

Roy rolled his eyes. "Long night. I'm heading for food and home." He put his bow away with just enough care to avoid a lecture from Oliver, again. "Felicity, you need a ride?"

She watched Oliver remove his hood, back still to his teammates, and then stalk off toward the shower. 

"Uh, no thanks, Roy. Good night." Roy nodded, and then not even bothering to step away, rapidly removed his arsenal and leathers, yanked on his t-shirt, hoodie, and jeans, and jogged out.

Felicity was accustomed to ignoring Roy's lack of modesty, but she was still glad Oliver wasn't there to see her see Roy momentarily in just his boxers. The phrase "poking a sleeping bear" or something came to mind... 

Diggle had taken a seat on one of the tall stools while Roy rushed to leave. His side arms were now laying unloaded on the metal table and a water bottle was almost empty at his lips.

"So?" Felicity moved to his side, eyes watching the bathroom door. "I thought it all went fine."

Diggle sighed. He rubbed a hand up and down over his face. "It did." He chugged the last of the water. "Until some punk jumped the Arrow on his way to his bike."

"What?!" Felicity choked out, switching her wide eyes to Diggle.

"Roy and I were at the car, Oliver had his bike in sight, bad guys all tied up and waiting for the cops--and this little shit attacked Oliver from behind."

Diggle crumpled his empty water bottle with ease and lobbed it toward the general area of the trash and recycle, though neither of them saw if it made it or not. "Yeah, he came out of the shadows, stabbed at Oliver's back and tried to take his fucking bow!"

"Stabbed?!" Felicity spun from watching the plastic flying and glared at Diggle. "Why aren't you examining the wound? Does it need stitches?" She moved toward the bathroom.

"Felicity, FELICITY!" Diggle stood and motioned for calm. "It didn't even make it past the outer layer of leather, ok?"

She crossed her arms. "So, what's the deal then? Why is he so angry?"

"I'm not really sure; maybe it's just because this was a kid, and Oliver had to knock him unconscious." Diggle rubbed the back of his neck and then shrugged. "Maybe it's that on top of everything, well, shit--maybe he's just hungry or something."

Felicity lowered her arms and stepped up to her friend. "Hey, it's ok." She rubbed her hand up and down the big man's arm. "You're all back safe, no one had to be killed--right?" Digg nodded. "So, whatever it is, we'll deal with it when he lets us, or we finally make him," she tipped her head and smiled softly. 

Diggle returned the smile and pulled her into his side. He pressed his lips onto the top of her head and squeezed her shoulders. "Yeah, of course, Felicity." He sighed into her hair before stepping away. "Want a ride?"

Felicity shook her head. "No, I'm actually in the middle of a data search that I don't want to leave unattended yet." She managed to keep looking at Diggle and not at the bathroom door.

"Ok," he raised his eyebrows. "Sure?"

"I'm sure." She bobbed her head, sending her ponytail into a wild flip behind her. "I'll make Oliver drive me, or I'll just call a cab."

Diggle snorted as he reloaded and holstered his two side arms. They both knew Oliver would never let her take a cab at night or from anywhere near their hideout, never mind walking anywhere to grab a ride. "Say hi to Lyla for me."

Diggle smiled brightly. "I will." He shrugged on his jacket.

"Oh! She called and asked that you...just a sec," she held up a finger while she searched through some paper near her keyboard. "Uh...I got...it...oh! And I quote, 'tell Johnny he better remember the peanut butter AND the pickles this time,'" Felicity giggled as Diggle rolled his eyes, "'or,'--HEY, pay attention, Digg--'OR, he doesn't get to watch Scandal without me spoiling it because I already watched the latest episode!' Oh, John," Felicity shook her head. "Scandal? Really?"

He pursed his lips, a playful scowl creeping over his face. "It's a good show."

Felicity bobbed her head again as she returned to her seat and spun to face her babies. "And I'm sure the fact that it stars the sexy Kerry Washington has absolutely nothing to do with it, right?"

He shrugged and grinned. "Lyla got me hooked, so ask her." He turned and took a few steps before turning back to add, "you gotta admit, Lyla's got fine taste when it comes to--what's that term you've used? Mocha-chocolatie-sexiness?" She gasped in horror that he had ever heard her but he just winked and called out, "Night Felicity!"

She spun back to her desk, laughed, slightly ashamed, and waved over her shoulder. The door closed and silence returned. She adjusted a few things, clicking to review different screens, and then realized the shower had stopped.

Felicity held her breath. She knew Oliver often just slept in the lair, instead of wasting money on an apartment or hotel room, or rotating crashing on his teammates' sofas.

She waited until she heard him at his "arrow" table, sorting and replacing and putting away his various arrows.

She turned slowly in her chair to watch him. His back was to her again. He was only wearing his cargo pants. His feet and torso were bare and she tipped her head as she tried to recall the last time she had seen him go barefoot.

Then she watched his shoulders and saw them still tense. 'Jeeze, what's upset him so much?! It has to be more than the attack...' she wondered to herself.

\----> tbc


	2. You Should Go

A minute or two passed with her just staring at his back before he sighed and turned. She blinked at him, too worried to pretend she hadn't been looking at him.

"What, Felicity?" His voice was tired but had an edge to it. "Why are you even still here?"

"Computer thingy," she waved her hand behind her. He folded his arms. "What, whhh-aaaaat's up with you?" She slowly stood and took a couple steps forward. She stopped when he narrowed his eyes. "I heard about that kid with the knife... is that the only thing that's, er, bothering you?"

He sighed and turned away, unfolding his arms. He fidgeted with his quiver for a moment. "Long night," he said flatly, even though they both knew it wasn't the longest "night" they'd had as Team Arrow, not by a long shot.

She hesitated for a moment. She was uncertain more often these days--about how to be around Oliver; how to be a friend and teammate, or a partner. She warred with herself constantly about how she felt after the mansion and beach moments had occurred. 

And because SHE didn't know how she felt, she didn't know what to expect, or want, from HIM.

But maybe that didn't matter at this moment; maybe she just needed to focus on Oliver and not herself, not them.

So she lifted her chin and walked over to him. "Oliver." He stopped moving and stood straight. She reached his side, paused again, and then firmly placed her small hand on his large shoulder.

She felt him shiver slightly under her fingers. "Oliver, talk to me," she whispered. He turned his head away but not his body. "Please?"

He sighed. She pushed slightly against his bicep, urging him to turn toward her. She somehow managed to ignore how good his arm felt under her hand, how good he smelled and looked...ok, maybe not completely ignore...

"Felicity." Oliver closed his eyes and she saw him struggle as he swallowed the lump in his throat. "You should go home. I'm not good company right now." He began to turn away but Felicity surprised them both by reaching around his chest to grip his opposite arm. She pulled until he was fully facing her and looking at her. His fingers twitched at his sides.

"Oliver." She raised her eyebrows and tilted her head, offering a tiny smile. "I'm not going anywhere. So you might as well spill it."

He frowned and narrowed his eyes. She shook her head. "Nope, you can't scare me off with your 'grrrr' face. Not this time, mister." So she tried a little humor--couldn't hurt, right?

He looked over her shoulder, open and closed his mouth and then heaved a great, big sigh as he rested his hip against the table. 

She moved with him, keeping her hands on his arms, as though he would turn and run if she removed the physical contact.

Suddenly he was looking straight into her eyes, flickering back and forth between hers as he seemed to decide what to share.

She raised her hand and smoothed her palm over his cheek and jaw before letting it rest on his Bratva tattoo.

Normally, being able to touch him like this would be setting off all sorts of sparks within her body; at this moment, however, all she could feel was his bottled up emotions seeping from his skin.

"Just, please," and she raised her palm to his face again. "I want you to tell me what you're thinking, feeling... Please, Oliver. For me."

Oliver closed his eyes again. His chest rose and fell, his shoulders slumped even more dejectedly than they had been. "He looked like Tommy, ok? Like Tommy did back in high school, and...and..." His breath hitched like Felicity had never heard it before. He kept his eyes closed. "And then I was thinking about everything, all of it; every life I've had to take, every scar I've gained, all the people I've disappointed or failed, failed to protect or failed to be honest with..."

He opened his eyes and sighed. She felt his arm and his jaw tense, tremble almost as he searched her face. She dropped the hand to his chest again and offered the faintest of smiles to show him she was listening and not trying to shush him.

He lifted his own hand then, letting his knuckles skim her jaw and down her arm until he could cover the hand covering his heart. "All the good people I've brought into my dark, complicated life. The people I've used..."

Felicity sucked in a breath. She knew this voice, this pattern of breathing and this look in his eyes. It was everything she had been both trying to decipher and trying to forget since those two moments back in late spring.

He must have seen her expression of recognition. Saw it and interpreted it all wrong. Because his brow clenched together above narrowed eyes and he got all tense again. She tried too late to tighten her hold on his arm.

"You should go," he said quietly and stepped away. His anger was rising again, she would swear she could actually see it taking over his body again. "GO, Felicity." He marched past her.

He grabbed the sledgehammer and began to pound the giant tire.

Felicity scowled at him but grabbed her purse and marched out. 'Well,' she huffed to herself, 'you didn't say how long your ORDER to leave was for...'

\----> tbc


	3. Convenient Store Dinner

She had grabbed the keys to the spare car they kept; it was a beater, very nondescript, but it worked. And she once again promised herself to drive her own car to the lair instead of hitching a ride from Diggle or Roy as she had been doing recently.

She drove to the nearest 24hr market, grabbed several items and then drove back to the Arrowcave.

As she expected, Oliver was still punishing the various training equipment. He was now pummeling the hell out of that weird wooden dummy, even snapping a few "arms".

She clicked--extra loud--her heels across the large room, and he paused to look at her.

"Felic-ity." he growled. The sweat defined his toned body perfectly under the harsh lights and she quickly ceased looking at him.

"Dinner?" she asked innocently, holding up the grocery bags as she turned toward the table. "Nothing fancy."

He grunted. "I'm not getting rid of you, am I?" When she flashed a smile and shook her head at him, he sighed but did let his lips curve up. Just a little.

 

\----> \---->

 

They ate hotdogs, bananas, juice, chips and beer. It was an oddly satisfying meal. Oliver was silent but content. He listened to Felicity chat about her latest search program, watching as she bounced over to her computers to type and click every so often. ("No food or drink near these babies, thank you very much.")

He wanted to be alone. He was pissed, at himself and at the world, and he didn't want her to see that. But she showed no signs of leaving.

Fuck.

He knew he should be grateful to still have her as a friend. After all the shit that had happened? But why couldn't she just go away for the night. A frown made its way to his face.

She returned from her computers again, slipping back up onto the table near his elbow and grabbing her glass of juice. (The six-pack of beer had been the first thing finished.) He watched her legs swing freely, her bright pink toenails sparkling, high heels laying forgotten under her desk.

He swallowed and followed the lines of her legs up to the edge of skirt. She was twining the loose, flirty fabric between her fingers as she drank and spoke and he almost choked when she accidentally flipped the fabric up for a second and he could see her smooth upper thighs.

"...so I tried this new thing that my hacker friend from Bulgaria sent me, and it FINALLY began to click." She chuckled and Oliver didn't think anything sounded better in the whole world than Felicity Smoak chuckling and giggling. Her laugh was great, but her genuine chuckle/giggle was rare these days and he was shocked to realize how much he missed it.

"...began to collect the info, from, well, just about everywhere. Kinda scary, actually..."

Oliver had been watching her fingers play with her skirt again and it took a moment of sudden silence for him to look up. Felicity was grinning.

"Sorry, you were saying?" He sat back and scratched his ear, avoiding her eyes.

"You haven't heard a thing I've been telling you, Oliver Queen!"

"I, yes, of course I have!" he protested. She just folded her arms. "Uhh, hacker friend from Bulgaria...fast intel..."

She burst out laughing. Oliver frowned. "It's ok. It wasn't important." She waved her hands and jumped down, starting to gather their bits of trash.

"No, I was being rude," Oliver declared as he stood, too. "Thank you for dinner, by the way." It sounded inadequate to his ears and he physically winced.

"You're welcome. I just thought maybe the grumps were gettin' to you more than normal because you needed food, so..." He watched her do that cute shrug of hers and started to help her clean up. He was still feeling tense and tight but just watching Felicity be Felicity was oddly calming.

Until they both reached for an empty bag of chips, that is. His fingers landed on her hand and he heard her intake of breath close at his side. His hand grew hot where it was connecting with hers.

Great. Now he was angry, tense, and... fuck... sexually charged. Although, honestly, he felt like that more often then not recently.

He squeezed his eyes closed and pulled back his arm, stepping away. He dropped his chin to his chest, hoping to hide his expression.

Shit shit shit. He had been doing so well, not letting his thoughts and feelings get beyond platonic. It wasn't fair to either of them; it--

"Oliver?" He looked up, saw that he had walked away, all the way over to the mats. Felicity stood by the table. She looked young and fresh, brilliant and beautiful, and brave...he needed her to leave. NOW.

"Maybe this is a good time to say good night, Felicity," he managed to say. He turned his back and headed toward the salmon ladder. He prayed that she would just go. And he hoped that she wouldn't. 'Ugh, bad rom-com cliche tag line, great,' he scolded his brain.

He was seriously getting annoyed with himself and his reactions to her. Why couldn't his heart and body shut the fuck up and listen to his head?! Nothing--NOTHING--should ever, could ever happen; not if he wanted to keep her safe!

And even THAT was starting to sound like the most used, most awful excuse ever.

He suddenly yearned for Sara. Not because he missed her badly, not really, but because he could get some sort of relief from pounding into her. She was strong and a little crazy, just like him, and he could loose himself in her arms and in her body. He never had to be careful around Sara. He just took and she took and then they were both too exhausted to think about crap like feelings and responsibilities!

He had just gripped the metal pole and was about to launch himself when he felt Felicity.

 

\----> tbc


	4. Felicity Makes HER Choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, the promised Explicit content! Enjoy and remember to comment, thanks!

Felicity saw his eyes, saw his frame tense again, rigid from frustrations. She wasn't as innocent as the rest of the team liked to think. Usually, she let this slide; if it helped the team, she didn't mind when they got gruff and antisocial and annoying.

But she was out of patience, she suddenly realized. And she knew the look burning in Oliver. She did have a genius IQ, after all.

Yup, she had seen that look before on a man. Her second college boyfriend would get that look after a disappointing track meet. It was a burning, thirsty, lusty, and desperate look and Felicity had fond memories of helping him release all that.

Is that... ? Was, could that work on a non-romantic guy friend? WOULD she and Oliver be considered "non-romantic"? But it had helped her boyfriend so very much, a physical relief, and Oliver looked so, well, he looked like her boyfriend had...

She blushed. Could she... did Oliver... but he hadn't said anything since the beach... he hardly touched her these days... so...?

She watched as Oliver tried the good night line again and headed to the salmon ladder. Now she was angry. Why did HE get to decide? It was about her, too, after all!

She wasn't clueless here, for Pete's sake! Each and every one of his excuses had some merit to them, but they were also on the border of utter bullshit.

As far as she was concerned, his excuses were nothing more than squeaky, smelly old shoes that needed to be thrown away once and for all.

She had needs too, right? Physical needs just like him. When was THAT suppose to happen, when she was spending all her time surrounded by the team, plotting and planning and saving the damn city?!

When had she even last gone on a date that made it past the front door? Fuck, she couldn't remember the last time! She couldn't even remember her last kiss!

So when Oliver scorched her again with that look and body language, and then turned away from her, AGAIN, something just snapped.

She dropped the gathered trash onto the floor and marched silently over to Oliver Queen. Just as he was about to throw himself up onto the first rung, she touched him.

Just a hand on his side, at his waist, above his kinda low hanging pants. But it was enough to stop him. She gripped the stupid metal pole, yanked it from his shocked hands, and tossed it away.

It clanged marvelously loud and distracted Oliver. She placed both her hands at his waist and pushed. Pushed him back until he collided solidly into a cold, hard, support column. Kept pushing as he tried to push away.

She looked up into his handsome face. She was a bit lower without her heels. He seemed confused but she could also see the desire still there, the raw energy and tension and anger, still there.

"Felicity," he groaned. She felt his hands fall to cover hers.

"Oliver, shhhh," she whispered and licked her lips as she continued to look into his eyes. He watched her lips and then looked down her body and back up to her eyes.

She felt a thrill surge through every fiber of her body when he gave the tiniest of nods. Somehow, with no words spoken, she asked, and he asked, and she offered, and he accepted...

Her fingers could feel his strength and knew he was on the edge of his control. She knew that if one of the guys were here instead, they'd be getting a beating as Oliver tried to get rid of his demons.

She knew she should have been concerned for her own safety but she also knew that Oliver wasn't so far gone that he would physically hurt her--not without her permission, at least.

So as he stood frozen against the pillar, she scraped her fingers around to the front of his pants and quickly undid them. She saw his abs tremble and heard him take a deep breath. His hands clenched at his sides. She wished she knew exactly what he was thinking, feeling...but a discussion wasn't what he needed and that's what this was about, so...

She slid her hands along his sexy V and down into his boxer briefs, just until her fingers could skim the hair above the base of his semi-hard penis. He hissed but remained motionless. And his will-power and trust instantly made her wet.

She brought her hands back up, stroking his skin to his belly button. She flattened her palms, pushed and moved them around to his back. 

She stepped into him, whispered against his Adam's apple, "no touching, I don't want you to move."

Then, though she really had no idea where her boldness came from, for any of this, really, (holy crap--they hadn't even ever kissed!!), she licked along his clavicle and back and then sucked his corded neck muscle.

Wow, she was making herself just as horny as him! 'Focus, not about you right now, Felicity, focus!' She lightly nibbled his throat.

He groaned, deep and guttural. She felt his arms flex but then straighten again, knew his fists must be clenched to keep from touching her. She smiled into his throat.

"Good boy," and when he tried to lower his mouth to hers she nipped at his chin and leaned back, hands scraping from his back to his front again.

She traced a couple scars absentmindedly as she watched his face. His eyes were watching her. His jaw was flexing, his lips parted, and his breaths were deep and through his nose.

'God, he's gorgeous!' she marveled to herself for, oh, only the thousandth time.

He grunted a small chuckle and her eyes flew from his chest to his face. "Crap, out loud?" she winced.

He nodded and swallowed. Licked his lips, opened his mouth, closed it and swallowed again. She smirked; Oliver Queen was speechless. She pressed herself back into him and finally allowed their lips to touch.

It was a couple soft pecks and sucks, enough to taste one another. He moaned at the same time she sighed and they both smiled against the others' lips. But when he parted his mouth and sought a deeper kiss, she shifted and began kissing his jaw, his neck, shoulder...

She kissed simple little kisses over every inch of his skin, scars included. She didn't suck or nibble, although just thinking about that--and about leaving a mark all her own on his body--made her positive she was starting to drip through her panties.

She lowered herself slowly; twirled her tongue around and into his belly button, exciting herself with his masculine, sweaty scent and taste, (huh, a hint of leather, interesting because he had taken a shower after removing the leather tonight.) How many times she had imagined what he would taste like and now... finally.

As she moaned happily against his skin, her hands pushed into his underwear again, but roughly this time. She immediately gripped his hardening length and gave it a good squeeze.

"Shitfucklicity!" Oliver banged his head back and pounded his fists a couple times against his hips.

She really did try to not smirk, honest. She kissed his belly button one more time and settled onto her knees. The floor was cold and hard, (of course,) but she liked him against the stone pillar, so she simply stood and trotted away.

"Wh--?!" He gasped but didn't move--'wow, self-control!' she was amazed again by Oliver.

"Just getting a cushion!" she called to him, grabbing a little folded blanket and skipping back to him.

He smiled but his teeth remained clenched and all his muscles tense. She dropped the blanket and then herself. She wasn't ashamed to admit she was excited. With the right guy, she absolutely loved giving head--the power she held, the control, trying to see how much she could take, how long he could last... she sighed against his straining fabric.

He let out a small moan and shifted his feet. She glanced up at his face and then at the tented underwear almost touching her face.

'Ok, here goes... Ok, just, just, Felicity, stop thinking,' she repeated over and over to herself as her heart rate increased.

\---->tbc


	5. Perfect Penis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felt bad about that cliffhanger, so, another chapter today!

She took a deep breath, smiled, and slowly reached and pulled down his pants and boxer briefs together. His erection was thicker than she was expecting and she grinned as it bounced free.

Ok, so, yes, of course she had imagined what his naked manhood would look like. All those half-naked workouts she had had to watch? Please.

He was about the length she had expected, estimated by staring at his crotch so often. But, yes, he was thicker. Her mouth watered and she licked her lips before looking up into his eyes.

His face was an odd mix of smugness, desire, and silent plea. His eyes were dark and intense and he was watching her every move very closely.

He swallowed and licked his own lips. "Felicity. You sure? Felicity? Don't hav--"

She silenced him by pulling his perfect penis (ha, she internally laughed at her alliteration,) away from his astounding abs and into her eager mouth.

"Shhhhhit...!" he groaned out loudly. Just the head was clasped between her lips and his breathing had become ragged. 'He is very, VERY much in need of a release,' Felicity noted as her tongue circled him. She tasted his precum and swallowed with a smile.

She pushed his clothing down a little farther and wiggled closer. Her knees shifted off the blanket and she removed her mouth to look down at it.

"Damnitlicity!" His thighs quivered for a nanosecond when she had reached down to readjust her folded blanket, and she bit her lip and smiled up at him.

'This is kinda fun,' she snickered to herself.

She covered his veiny shaft with her hand and pumped a few times, but he was still a little dry, so she licked a slurpy lick up each side of his erection. Her hand moved easier then. She focused on pulling him from his base to just under his rather attractive end.

She held her hand there, squeezing and watching the spongy tip flush as his excited blood rushed to it. Above her, Oliver grunted and then she moved her tight hand back down. She made sure to lightly scrape her thumb down his underside as she went.

"Mmm," was his only response.

He was velvety soft and wonderfully hard and she momentarily lost herself as her hand slid up and down, her thoughts picturing him sliding in and out her tight and neglected pussy.

She moaned at the image just as her lips met his purpling head again. He hissed at the vibration; so when he was well into her mouth once more, she hummed loudly.

He panted and gripped her ponytail but then released it to smack the hand back against the column. If she hadn't been enjoying him so much, she would have made some comment about being a good boy again.

Her mouth and right hand began to work a rhythm, squeezing, sucking, licking, pulling. Her left hand had been resting on his bare thigh but as she got into her task, it migrated and soon held his heavy balls. She caressed and messages them together as her head began to bob faster.

"Please, please, touch you..." He was gasping clenched words. When she looked up, he was staring at her with her mouth taking almost his entire length. His eyes were intense, pleading, in a way she hadn't ever, EVER seen him before. "Please."

She nodded, mouth still holding him, so his shaft nodded as well. His right hand found her ponytail again, wrapping it around his fingers and then resting atop her head. He didn't try to control her, it just seemed enough to touch her.

She shivered at the surprisingly gentle gesture. Her hand and head continued to pleasure the impressive cock in a steady, deep rhythm. Oliver's thumb stroked through her hair a few times as he made low grunting noises.

But now her jaw was beginning to ache. She let him slide out--they both moaned the loss--and she gripped his now pleasantly slippery penis in both hands.

"Sorry, needed a break," she panted against his tip. He responded with a grunt and slight thrust. She pressed his shaft up against his body and licked slowly from his balls to his slit.

He shivered when she moved over an especially sensitive spot near his end. She wiggled her tongue there, and then in his slit, encouraging more drops of precum and sighing happily when they appeared.

"Wow, you taste yummy," she giggled. As she ran her tongue back down his underside, she watched his face. He was watching her with barely opened eyes. His fingers spasmed in her hair when she got back to his testicles and she smiled at him before sucking one in and stroking it inside her mouth with her tongue.

"Fuck shit," he whispered loudly, his head tipping back. "Ahhhh," echoed up into the cavernous ceiling.

She sucked one ball hard, released it with a slurp, and sucked the other in and treated it the same. Her hands rested on his legs and he was trembling slightly. She swirled her tongue and then managed to take in the entire scrotum. His penis moved erotically along her face as she played with his sac. Oliver was panting quite loudly now. It was a wonderful sound to Felicity's ears.

And he tasted pretty good, too. She knew he hadn't showered since his workout. But his sweat wasn't smelly or gross to her. She thought she remembered reading about how your "perfect match" would never smell bad to you... Where has she seen that?

He slid with a slight pop from her mouth and she took a deep breath before kissing just above his penis as she pumped him firmly a few times. Her bright nails scratched faintly along his underside.

"Uhh, fuck, you're, uh, uh, good, shhh, at this," Oliver suddenly growled as she briefly sucked his crown. His fingers tightened and relaxed in her hair.

She sat back, continuing her pleasuring by pumping with one hand, and smiled up at him. "Thanks."

She licked her lips and took a moment to really look at his body. She was a little surprised to see that he seemed to man-scape quite a bit. Nothing like a waxed smooth swimmer or porn star, but definitely shaved a bit and trimmed quite pleasantly. It was clean and precise and very Oliver.

Her other hand rose to skim and tease through the sparse hair around his penis and she could almost imagine what it would feel like stroking against her skin. She looked up at his jaw. Just like she often imagined what his scruffy rough face would do against the soft, bare, tender skin along her inner thigh...

She shivered and gasped suddenly. She had to grip his thigh to keep from falling over.

"Wh-Huh? You, are you, ok?" he asked. She nodded but didn't look at him. She didn't want him to see her so aroused. Not yet. Of course, he probably had already figured it out--she wasn't so great at blow jobs as to be able to do it and not clearly be enjoying it at the same time.

But she wanted this to be about helping him get a little release in his life. It was a choice SHE had made, not him, and even though he was to benefit from it, that's what the important thing was, for her. HIS lack of control in the matter was key. She smiled and took a deep breath.

"Crap, that smile makes me nervous, Felicity," he chuckled darkly. She grinned even wider and slowly licked her lips as she stilled her hands. He made a noise and tried moving but she pushed against his pelvis and he sighed as he stopped moving.

They just looked at each other. Oliver, standing almost naked against a concrete column, pants and underwear at his feet, one hand tangled in Felicity's hair, the other clenched at his side. Felicity, completely clothed except for her bare feet, kneeling on a folded blanket, in front of the highly stressed and tense Oliver, one hand holding his heated and hard penis, the other pushing against his pelvis...

"You know how fucking hot you look right now?" Oliver whispered down at her.

"You know how fucking long I've wanted you like this?" she asked in return.

\---->tbc


	6. Unloading

_Previously: "You know how fucking hot you look right now?" Oliver whispered down at her._

_"You know how fucking long I've wanted you like this?" she asked in return._

\---- >

"Shhhi-God damn," he grumbled with a chuckle. "Language, Felicity, heh." With a smile, he closed his eyes and tilted his head back against the pillar. Felicity smirked. She almost never swore and it seemed to be a trigger for him. Good to know.

But as she flexed her fingers on his shaft, his stomach muscles rippled and she knew she couldn't tease any more. They BOTH needed his release.

So she refocused on making him explode for her. Her hand squeezed back down to his base as she angled him down to her lips again. He made a happy groaning growl sound and she felt herself tingle with excitement again.

She kissed and licked his tip before opening and letting it slide in once more. He hissed and she felt him lower his chin to watch her. His hand randomly massaged her scalp but didn't force her movements and she again appreciated his gentleness.

Her free hand caressed its way around his hip to his amazing ass and she squeezed as much of the fine, taut flesh as her hand could hold.

"Uh uh, yes, Uhhhhggggg God yes," he repeated in gasps and moans.

Her hand increased its speed as she sucked him deeper, giving a little swallow to pull him in more. She wasn't very good at deep throating, but wow, he made her really want to try.

She repositioned her knees slightly and swallowed down saliva, precum, and cock. She almost gagged but just as he pressed against her uvula, he loudly shuddered a humming "Ffffffffelicccccity!" into the large room and she managed to keep him deep in her throat a few moments longer.

She slid her hand off his ass and around to cup his tightening sac again while she backed him out of her mouth a little. Her other hand, still wrapped around him, resumed rubbing and pumping. She would twist her fist when she returned to his base, squeeze, and then slide it up the saliva coated erection halfway, where her lips and mouth were busy sucking.

She hallowed her cheeks and used just the hint of teeth as she moved Oliver in her mouth. She kinda wanted to tease his little slit some more but could tell by the tightening of his testicles in her hand and the quivering of his legs and the sounds he was making, that he was close to coming.

He was making all sorts of groaning hissing sounds now. Felicity knew Oliver, and just knew he was trying to make this last. She pulled her mouth off him completely and smiled as he pulled at her hair with an almost wild desperation.

"Come for me, Oliver, come in my mouth," Felicity ordered in a sultry whisper. She licked his shaft and nuzzled her face into his coarse hair for a moment, hands still on his balls and penis. "I want to taste you. And I want to taste you again and again. So don't hold back, ok?"

He seemed to have heard her, he did a grunting nod and guided her back (with only a bit of measured force), though he didn't use any words. She sighed contently as she took him deep again. He jutted forward a little. Just a second of fighting her gag reflex and then she was bobbing rapidly. Oliver's hips began to follow her rhythm, bucking away from the pillar.

She played with his balls just a little more roughly for a moment, pulling them down and away from his body before rolling them in her hand and back up to almost reach for his anus before letting them go to scrape her fingers through his pubic hair.

She found a good depth for his cock in her sucking, slurping mouth. Using her hand and head, with Oliver's hand still in her hair and just slightly guiding her now, she focused on a nice, rhythmic motion again.

She traced her other hand over a particularly saliva-coated section of penis and then back down to under his sack. Lifting her eyes to watch his reaction, she slowly moved a wet finger back and circled his anus.

His movements faltered but the deep, long, throaty cry he issued told her to keep going. So she very lightly tapped his puckered opening and he flinched. She brought her finger to where her mouth was salivating up and down his length and she dragged more moisture lower and coated his tight hole.

"Shit-I-won't-be-I-can't-hold-SHIT FELICITY!" She felt her own body building just from listening to this strong, complicated, controlled man reduced to a sexy, desperate animal because of her. She knew if she touched herself right then, a mind-blowing orgasm would blast through her.

She felt his entire body tighten as she gave a particularly strong suck into her throat, and as she pressed the tip of her finger onto, barely into him, she knew he was about to orgasm.

She felt her jaw protesting but ignored the twinge and gave another intensely strong suction on Oliver's pulsing cock, pressing him against the roof of her mouth and down into her throat.

Both his hands suddenly clutched at her head and hair. He almost looked about ready to just start fucking her face, but he controlled himself enough, barely, to continue to let Felicity lead.

She had hardly moved her finger tip in and out of his ass before he shuddered, stiffened, and began releasing his hot load.

It jetted into the back of her throat, and she almost swallowed it all, but his hips were wildly bucking (no more impressive Oliver Queen control now!) and so she just removed her mouth and used her right hand to aim the last of his spurts at her face and mouth. Her other hand's finger was being clenched so hard into his ass she didn't think she could pull it out even if she wanted.

It amazed her to watch Oliver come undone. His face was red and the cords of his neck sharply defined as his orgasm ripped through his muscular body. His abs became more defined and his stomach seemed to suck in with each pulsing release of ejaculate. His breaths were loud, quick gasps between shuddering moans and foreign mumbled curses.

Oliver's hands just held Felicity as she held him and he thrust a final shot (number 5, if Felicity had counted correctly??) that landed on her cheek and chin. She ignored her own body demanding an orgasm and smiled at his face even though his eyes were closed.

She pushed once more with her finger at his ass and his eyes opened as he grunted a harsh whisper, "fuck yeah, fuck fuckshiiiiit..." His body did a small spasm type move that opened his tight hole enough for Felicity to pull out her finger. "Ahhh ohhh, shit," he moaned. His hips twitched, moving forward into her again but he had nothing left to release, so he simply exhaled loudly.

His hands loosened their grip in her hair just as she loosened her grip on his now softening penis. She licked her lips, wiped the drips of cum from her face with the back of each hand, and sat back onto her heels, resting her hands against his thighs.

Oliver was still breathing rapidly. Suddenly, he slid down to kneel with her, his bunched up pants only slightly hindering him. He pulled her face to his, pressing their foreheads together as he tried to catch his breath.

Felicity stroked behind his ears and over his neck and shoulders. She couldn't help the little smile teasing her lips.

"Feel better?" she asked softly.

Apparently, tasting himself didn't give him any pause, because he captured her mouth with his and they kissed passionately while on their knees. (And damn it, she was even more turned on than before.)

He seemed desperate, in fact, to kiss her, consume her, and she kissed back just as aggressively.

Then, Felicity suddenly realized Oliver was basically naked, she was fully clothed, and the lair door unlocked to anyone with the code...

"Felicity," he mumbled into her lips. "Felicity, Felicity," he mumbled against her temple and into her hair. He inhaled deeply and wrapped his arms around her.

Felicity sighed a happier sigh than any she could remember and wrapped her own arms around his damp waist. He was sweaty and, actually a little stinky now, but she inhaled and decided it was wonderful.

She giggled at her thoughts. Oliver rubbed her back before pulling away to look at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Giggling? Really?" She shrugged. He looked into her eyes. How many times had they stared, searched each others' eyes now? Did it seem a lot more, recently? It felt to her that he was attempting to memorize her eyes, or find her soul, or something. Did he do that with John? Or Sara or Roy?

"Do THAT?!" he choked. "No, Jesus, Felicity!" He tried to turn it into a laugh.

"What?! Oh, oh!" She clapped her hands over her mouth. "Nonono, that's not what I was thinking--talking?--about! I mean, yeah, I guess with Sara, that makes sense, you were a couple, so yeah, that's--"

"Felicity!" He groaned and closed his eyes. His hands found her waist and rested there.

She mumbled, "stupid brain," and stood up, his hands trailing down to cup behind her knees. "Uh, Oliver?" He opened his eyes and looked wearily up at her. "You, um, you're kinda, well, naked." His hands moved away as she took a step back.

He narrowed his eyes and smoothly got to his feet. But instead of pulling up his pants, he stepped out of them and toward her.

Her eyes widened. "Wh--whatcha doing? Ol-Oliver?" She saw his eyes flash and the weariness she had been proud to cause just a moment ago was gone. 'Shit,' her brain started to think, before 'oh wow he is too damn sexy!'

"How about you, Felicity?" Oliver asked in such a low voice it was almost a growl. He was stalking her, pure and simple; all smoldering, hard-bodied, sweaty naked Oliver. He crept closer.

"Me?" She started to back up again.

"You," he smiled--great, that was his confident and, er, cocky... grin. "You seem a little tense yourself..."

She tripped and fell back onto the training mats. Oliver's smile eased into its smooth, all-business smile--how he could pull that off while completely naked was beyond her--and he dropped to the mats, caging her under him.

It was, oddly, highly sexy and Felicity felt herself squirm and press her legs together to ease the throbbing growing there.

Oliver lowered his head, kissed her ear and whispered, "Your turn."

"Shit," she whispered and shivered.

\---->tbc


	7. Now What?

Oliver let his gaze linger on her mouth before traveling down her squirming body and back to her eyes.

Felicity was breathing heavily and the sight of her breasts pushing against her clothing was causing him to slowly harden sooner than he thought possible.

"I, I uh, don't, I'm not t-tense, Oliver," she huffed suddenly. Her warm breath blew across his bare, still sweaty chest.

He watched her, amazed at what they, at what SHE had just done. Fuck, it was EXACTLY what he had needed.

"How do you do that?" he asked, settling onto his elbows above her, bringing their faces closer. Bringing her nipples closer.

She swallowed. "Do what?"

He smiled and nudged her nose with his. "How do you always seem to know what I need, what to say to me? No one else--" he closed his eyes for a few seconds, felt her hand rest comfortably on his neck, "no one else..." He sighed and gave a little shrug.

She nodded. "I know what you mean. It's different with Diggle, right? More of a, a brother-in-arms thing?" She traced his jaw and then rested her hand on the back of his neck again.

It felt so right, he realized. "God, I'm a fucking idiot."

She laughed at that, just like he had hoped. He let himself smile slightly. He adored her laugh.

"I can forgive you." She raised her head enough to capture his lips. He felt his erection, at half-staff already, rub against her thin belt. He felt his primal needs begin to rise (he wasn't even embarrassed to think of it like that anymore, because damnit, that's what it was for him--raw and hard and wild and endless.)

"Felicity," he said again. She licked her lips and he smiled. "Felicity Felicity Felicity." She tipped her head back and laughed. Her exposed throat called to him but he controlled the urge to suck and mark it.

"Why do you keep saying my name?" she asked once she tipped her head down again.

"I'm just trying it, making sure this isn't some hallucination."

Her face softened. "Nope, all real." And although he didn't ask it, she answered, "I got tired of waiting."

He raised an eyebrow. She shrugged under him and then pushed her glasses back up her nose--'damn sexy blonde and her glasses...'.

"I was getting annoyed, ok? It wasn't, isn't, all about you. Takes two to tango and all that jazz, ya know."

Oliver snorted and buried his face in her neck. His quaking shoulders received a slap.

"I'm serious!" 

'Uh-oh,' he thought, 'she's almost using her Loud Voice.'

"Just another thing to add to the list," he smirked. Their eyes locked once more, and he was again hit with how right it all felt.

She briefly caressed his face before pushing his shoulders so he had to move off her. She scouted back. "List?"

He sighed. Clearly, Felicity was in "talk mode" and he was getting chilly, so he leapt to his feet and went to retrieve his pants. 

"Yeah, list of things I'm sorry for," he called over his shoulder, "things I regret, stupid things I've said or done--or failed to say or do--that kind of list."

He walked toward her, adjusting his re-softening penis gently into his underwear and zipping up his pants. She was still sitting on the mats, chewing her bottom lip, clearly enjoying the view.

"Oh, that kind of list," Felicity whispered. He reached the mats and held out his hand. She let him help her to her feet but then tried to walk away. He tightened his grip on her arm and stepped into her body.

"Now what?" He asked it softly, almost afraid.

"I don't know, Oliver." He saw unease crease her brow. He hated that he caused that. "I mean, are you gonna run, hide, ignore?"

He almost physically cringed. The accusation stung deep and true. But he didn't blame her for thinking that way. He kept his face even as he tried to think of a response. She thought of one first.

"Because I know ALL of your excuses aaaaaand--they suck." She blushed but didn't back down. "And I, ME, Felicity? I have decided there isn't any reason for us... not... for us not... to, you know, be together." She looked down and added, "plus, I did already say that I was gonna want you to cum again so I could taste you again, so there's that." 

He shivered as he imagined her sucking his cock again, and his hand tightened on her arm. He opened his mouth to reply but she covered it with her hand.

"No, how about let's not say anything else right now. I, I did what I did because you needed it. You needed that release and I NEEDED to provide it and it was that simple. So. That's that. And tomorrow we can talk about what, if ANYTHING, it means."

Oliver wanted to respond but her remarkable-ness was stunning him. Again. So he kissed her palm still covering his mouth, his tongue poking out to taste her skin... and the residue of himself as well. He hummed deep in his throat. Felicity's hum softly echoed his.

She pulled his head down and smooched a loud kiss onto his cheek. "But just for the record, I don't regret my actions tonight and I want you to just chill and maybe get some sleep without wearing your 'grrr' or 'Oliver thinky' face. Ok?" She patted his still bare chest. " 'Kay. Good night, Oliver Queen."

And before he could move, using her own very ninja-like, IT expert, tricky woman skills, she was gone. The heavy metal door clang-slammed shut and he was left even more confused, flustered, and wound up than before he had received the best goddamn blow job of his fucking life.

\---->\---->

Felicity was almost to her car when Diggle stepped out of the shadows. She gasped and glared at him but he just lifted his chin at her. "You ok?"

She nodded and played with her car keys. He smiled and motioned to the lair. "Is Oliver ok?"

She sighed. Of course Diggle would be there to check on them; he, too, had seen what a mood oliver had been in. She leaned back against her car. Diggle matched her pose.

"Did, uh, did you go back in?" She almost didn't want to know if, what, he saw or heard...

"Naw, I figured I'd wait a quarter hour more and then call you; if you hadn't answered, then, hell yeah, I was gonna come back down there." He leaned away from her and narrowed his eyes playfully. "Why? What did I miss, Felicity?"

"Nothing," she answered too quickly and Diggle chuckled at her. Oh, if he only knew...

Now SHE lifted her chin. She wasn't ashamed; she had enjoyed it, but she doubted Diggle was even close to figuring out what she had just done in their base of operations. So she put on her most adult face and said, "You have your ways of dealing with him, I have mine."

Diggle covered his mouth but still could not hold in his laugh. "Do I want to know?"

'Eh, what the heck,' she said to herself. Felicity closed her eyes and then turned to face the big man. "I blew Oliver Queen's mind." She was one part shocked at her confession to DIGGLE, and one part proud. Did he understand what she really meant? She watched him closely.

He smiled and choked on a laugh, but then he really turned to look closer at her. "You, uh... sorry, what?"

Funny how giving a blow job could make her feel so empowered and sassy all of a sudden.

She licked her lips and grinned, pushing him away from her car door so she could open it. Right before she stepped in, she flipped her ponytail and looked right at him.

"I. Just gave. Oliver. THE Best. Blowjob." She watched the unflappable John Diggle drop his mouth open and flare his nostrils and pop his eyes wide.

"Y--wh--Felic--WHAT?!" His nose scrunched as he made his confused face but he otherwise seemed unable to move a muscle.

"Good night, John, see ya tomorrow." She managed to close her door without smashing his fingers, but only because he had already recovered from the shock enough to begin marching back toward the basement.

"Crap," she said to her car. "There goes Oliver's relaxing night," she giggled softly.

And though she felt slightly bad about sharing such an intimate detail, she really didn't. John was part of the team, and she didn't want to make her action into a bigger deal than Oliver wanted and basically, damnit, it had felt good sucking him, great--amazing, even! And he had thoroughly enjoyed it, too.

"So, yeah, NOPE!" She turned on her favorite satellite radio station. "Not at all sorry for any of it."

She drove home singing loudly with the windows down.

 

\---->  


\----> the end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and commenting! I love all the kudos and bookmarks, etc!
> 
> There WILL be a non-sexy epilogue to kinda wrap up. If you just wanted some smut, you can stop reading since it is done for this story ;)
> 
> (And I may start working on a sequel of Felicity having her tension eased...)


	8. Epilogue

Epilogue

Diggle was stunned. Was Felicity messing with him? Some practical joke, right, it had to be. But he couldn't really see her joking, not about that. He couldn't even quite wrap his head around her saying the words, never mind doing... the... well, doing THAT. But to joke about it?

'Naw-ah,' he told himself.

Not after all the emotional yo-yo-ing of recent history.

And her face said she wasn't lying. He managed to yank his hand off her car before she shut the door and he didn't even bother returning her "good night," because he was on his way to grill Oliver.

The building was quiet, even in the basement, and that was just plain eerie; Oliver was always making noise down here.

Diggle walked stiffly down the stairs, eyes scanning the dimmed basement for any signs of... something. He still held hope he was having a very weird nightmare.

"Oliver," he called out. He noticed some trash on the floor, remains of the dinner he knew Felicity had brought back earlier.

Diggle had been worried about her, and yeah, Oliver, too, ever since the Slade crap went down, and his gut tonight had told him to hang back a while to see what new torment his teammates were about to create for themselves.

But he sure as hell never even considered them doing such an intimate and sexual act--in the lair!

"Digg?" Oliver said as he stepped out from the bathroom wearing only a towel. "Something wrong?"

Diggle quickly determined that Oliver was physically fine, just as Felicity had been out at her car.

"Ran into Felicity just now," was all he was able to verbalize. He watched as Oliver's usually stoic face briefly flashed something like shock before smoothing back into blankness. "Any, uh, anything you want to share, man?"

Oliver crossed his arms. "No." He kept his gaze steady. "Why?"

Diggle crossed his arms as well. He returned Oliver's stare. Oliver rubbed his nose and then crossed his arms again. Diggle shifted his feet. They kept staring.

Finally, Diggle cleared his throat. Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Shit, Oliver, when did you and Felicity become, an item?" He couldn't bring himself to say "sexual" or anything close to it.

"We aren't," the younger man replied. But Diggle could see confusion in Oliver's eyes.

"So, you're saying Felicity is just giving head for the heck of it." Now he was getting pissed off with Oliver.

"It's not--she didn't--wh--" Oliver growled.

"She just told me, man!" Diggle stepped closer and used his very slight height advantage to look down onto him. "What the hell is going on?"

Oliver stepped calmly back and they both took a deep, calming breath. Then he ran his hands through his damp hair.

"I, I can't even begin to explain it, Digg." Oliver walked toward the changing area. "She just, she just offered, sort of demanded and, and... Crap." He disappeared and returned a moment later dressed.

Diggle noticed him avoiding his eyes as he went to his arrow table and stood with his hands braced on its edge.

"So you aren't, uh, dating or anything like that?" Diggle asked with skepticism.

Oliver's shoulders drooped. "No, but, she said she wanted to... help... me, like that... again, so, whatever that means."

Diggle snorted. "You know what a fucking lucky bastard you are?"

Oliver spun around and pierced Diggle with a serious glare. "It wasn't like that, John." He stood straight. "It was... nice. I didn't force her but, fuck it, I did NEED it, needed something or I was going to drive myself crazy and she saw that. Just like Felicity ALWAYS see everything."

The blue eyes seemed to plead with Diggle to understand; and on some level, yeah, he did. "But this is Felicity, Oliver. She doesn't deserve to be used lik--"

"It. Wasn't. Like that." Oliver had clenched his fists. Diggle watched him fight to regain his control, saw his eyes dart over toward the mats, the salmon ladder, and tension eased from his face and limbs. "I wanted, tried to, er, return the favor, but she insisted it was all for me tonight. She didn't seem to want more, to want--she said we would talk later and she was fine with that, Digg, honest."

Diggle nodded as he tried to process all this. Oliver stepped closer. "You know I would never, with any woman, I would nev--"

Diggle dropped his hand on Oliver's shoulder. "I know, of course I know that."

Oliver nodded and clamped his hand briefly on top of Diggle's.

"But you gotta admit," Diggle smirked. "It IS very strange, right?"

"Damn right." Oliver returned to stand at his arrow table but this time actually began to do some work. "I thought first that I was hallucinating, like Vertigo again, and then I thought SHE was drugged somehow. And... it's not like I was exactly thinking clear headed after tonight's patrol, so, I, I, just... let her..."

Diggle couldn't help it, he had to chuckle. The whole thing was too ridiculous. "You worried about having to face her after this?"

"I'm trying not to think about it too much," Oliver sighed but faintly smiled. "I'm concentrating on relaxing--because she ordered me to and I do not want to make her mad after she, you know, so... But also focusing on the fact that she still wants to talk. And that I've been an idiot."

Diggle released an exaggerated sigh and tossed his hands into the air. "No shit, Sherlock!" He laughed softly and shook his head at the perturbed look Oliver was giving him over his shoulder. "I've tried to stay out of it; you have had a shit load to deal with recently, didn't need me harping on you. But I just can't help imaging how your life would be if you gave up your excuses and chose to be happy with her."

Oliver paused his hands that were affixing some fletching to a shaft. His head lowered slightly toward the table, like he was thinking deeply. Diggle waited. "I, it's hard, John. To stop thinking I'm alone. Even after all we have been through as a team."

"I know, man."

"It's hard to consider her capable, and deserving, of making her own choices. To let go of the concept that, that..."

"That you can't control everything and everyone?" Diggle offered in a gentle voice. "That maybe your version of protecting her, it needs to adapt to reality?" He stepped up to his friend and laid a brotherly hand on the bowed neck of the complicated young man. "That you deserve some happiness, despite what you think?"

He felt Oliver nod slightly and breathe out a shuddering near-sob. Diggle recognized when to keep pushing and when to hold back; he had known more than enough soldiers in his life, all battered and beaten in some form or another. So he squeezed the back of the strong man's neck and just stayed silent.

Oliver didn't cry, not really. Diggle didn't notice any tears dropping to the table. But when Oliver turned abruptly and embraced him, Diggle saw a little wetness glitter in the blue eyes before they were squeezed shut.

"Thanks, Digg." They patted backs and then separated. Oliver turned back to his fletching and Diggle cleared his throat as he stood back.

Diggle was glad his and Oliver's relationship was steady enough to allow the usually tough young man to be comfortable showing emotions--no matter how brief.

"Ok, man, I'll leave you to your mandated relaxing." He walked to the stairs. "Good night, and, uh, good luck with that Talk."

Oliver grunted and Diggle took that as the only "good night" he was going to get from Oliver Queen that night. He smiled and whistled out his astonishment at the whole thing as the door clanged shut behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it, even the non-smuty parts. Thank you for reading, commenting, kudos, bookmarks, etc!


End file.
